


Super Fortress: The World's Worst

by Roverlord



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Dimension Rifts, Follows TF2 logic and has the same degrees of realism and sanity, Mad Science, Secret Organizations, Some maybe-magic, The BLU's are the mirror universe versions, The names are mostly canon i guess, Various Alternative Universes, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roverlord/pseuds/Roverlord
Summary: Metahumans. Mutants. Freaks. Monsters. Urban legends.Whatever you want to call them, they live among us. Most of them are in hiding, but there are ten people from all around the world running around in the city of Teufort, and they're very much real.It's an assortment of whackjobs, vigilantes, and villains that do whatever they please, usually for money, revenge, or recreation. At one point they were somewhat of a team, but after their medic was booted out for impregnating a man with a baboon, they drifted apart on their own ways. Some of them have made a life in hiding, some still ran around masked, and some were in prison. One was given the chair but rose from the dead like the fucking Jesus.When the worst whackjob's old nemesis shows up again and accidentally creates gazillion dimensional rifts, it's do or die. RED is back too (Not that it ever really left), and their old contact in the mafia has plans of his own.





	1. Chapter 1

The screen in a dark room painted red shows a man in his fourties, with black hair and glasses, a bloody dove on his shoulder. He was wearing what looks like a nazi hat, a formerly white coat, and a medical mask is hanging around his neck. In his eyes smoldered poorly concealed mania.

"Humboldt, Ludwig. A mad scientist. Goes by the names Dr. Opusmagnum and Blütenweiss" one figure tells another "He lost his medical lisence and was banished from Europe after removing a living man's spine. He was executed two years ago in Florida, but rose from the grave like some goddam Jesus. He can control blood like water elementals control water."

The picture changed to show another man wrapped in red coat and boots, and blue helmet and pants, with white whatevers on the boots. His helmet hid his eyes and had a large white star on it. He seemed overall scruffy, he could be homeless. The stance implied a limp.

"Doe, Jane (That's propably not his real name but it's all we got). A.ka 'Red, White and Blue Victorious'. RWB Victorious for short." The figure continues "Seems to be an ex soldier, but doesn't think rationally and lapses in reasoning. Capable of digesting anything and regurgitating it for later use. Weapons, usually."

The next picture is a blur, showing a gas-masked figure in red and gold. The whole background is going down in flames. On the closer inspection, the figure's shape seemed to distort in a way that cannot be be attributed to the blur.

"Real name and gender unknown. The media calls it Pyro. A pyromaniac with fire powers."

Another photo appears, this man clearly posing for the camera, smoking a cigarette. He's dressed in a purple suit an balaclaclava and using a cigarette holder.

"Name unknown, goes by La Petite Morte. He can somehow melt into shadow for invisibility. He's a French rogue agent, now on the mob's paylist."

Yet another blurred photo, this time of a rifleman on a shadowed roof.

"He's a ghost story with no name, with connections to Doe. He never misses his shot."

Next set of photos was a series of mugshots from a prison, the letters cyrillic. The man looked inhumanly large.

"Mikhail, last name unknown and no code name. He has super strenght and toughness, but pointy objects harm him easier."

The next photo is from some kind of an expo, the man standing next to a goddamn gun tower is mostly normal, but wears goggles and a backwards hardhat.

"Dell Conagher, Clockwork Copper. Background unknown, he just appeared. A technopath, meaning he can control machnery and talk with it. Bonds the easiest with primitive tech. Thinks he's a superhero."

The second-last photo is of a pub with a gaelic sign. A black man with an eyepatch, dressed mostly normally and drunk to senselesness is making an explosion on his palm, to the shock of the other pubgoers.

"Tavish Finnegan DeGroot, Boombaby" the first figure continues, not sounding terribly fond of DeGroot's codename "Creates explosions and can "rig" things to blow up with his touch."

The last photograph shows a boy in red and black spandex, zipping through motorway traffic on foot.

"Jeremy, surname unknown, A.k.a Boston Blitz. Runs like wind. The power is kinetic in nature; The faster he moves, the harder he hits."

The speaker turned towards the other figure.

"Got everything written down?"

"Yes, Administrator."

"Good. Go do your job. After three days, these men must not have ever existed" The Administrator says "Except Conagher" she adds, as if as an afterthought "I want him in there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Opusmagnum" is Latin for "The great work" and "Blütenweiss" means "White blood".
> 
> Soldier's power is a reference to a Penguins Of Madagascar character who's just as sane as him.
> 
> "La Petite Morte" is French for "The little death" and is an euphenism for orgasm.


	2. Chapter 2

That thing shouldn't've been moving. Well, not on it's own anyway.

It was a fucking eyeball, after all.

"Kill him, Monoculus!!!" Merasmus bellowed, flailing around madly "Make me more Monoculi!!"

Red, White and Blue Victorious was running around the floating orb with Liutenant Bites and her Rapid Raccoon Battalion, battering at Monoculus with a six-shooter bazooka. The ungrateful masses were cheering for the monster. Nobody was paying any attention to Merasmus, who was garbling gibberish from a book with an ugly face. The street under RWB's boots ripped open and the screaming commoners fell back. RWB pointed at the alleged wizard with some kind of a shank that was just as teeny as you'd assume his meat stick to be.

"Maggot Merasmus..!"

The noise from his throat stopped when something grapped his ankle.

It tried to pull him into a swirling vortex of pink and green in the crack, but RWB's hate for Pink was so great he managed to resist the seemingly disembodied hands by the sheer force of insanity-fueled will.

"Oopusmagnum, you German maniaac!!" He yelled out like a drill sergeant, because he was convinced the bloodbender had something to do with these abominations to God and country.

(Opusmagnum, for once, had no idea what was going on, but he was enjoying the show from the roof, out of view, with a slab of questionable meat in his sandwhich. RWB always unwittingly provided better entertaiment than any other American comician.)

"Come out and fight like a Germ!!" RWB's nonsensical roaring confused both Monoculus and Merasmus, but the walking dead pulling the patriot down didn't understand nor care about his last words.

A hail of bullets ripped RWB's foot and the arms clinging onto it, he managed to struggle free and roll around, facing the vortex and the man behind him.

"This isn't very low a profile, Vicky" muttered Clockwork Copper, propably the most heroic of all of them, though it didn't take much "People can see you. What the shit is going on in there??"

The question was better than RWB thought. The spell semed to have escaped Merasmus' control and he couldn't close the rift, more of them starting to appear randomly with zombies raining on the street.

(Now Opusmagnum was intrigued. Free corpses! He immediately hurried down to secure his stock before the cops and the army would arrive, but to his limitless dissappointment the rifts had dissappeared. The zombies were still in here, though. Better than nothing.)

RWB, even through preoccupied, was so enraged by the visage of his mortal enemy that he left Clockwork's and the Sentries' side to barf up a bloody shovel whick he set out to whack OM with. Clockwork somewhat understood, he wouldn't be very happy either if a mad nazi impregnated him with a baboon fetus. Opusmagnum ripped a fistful of blood from RWB's wound and tried to use it as a tentacle to grip the shovel, but the American was fanatically holding onto the gravedigger tool.

The animals skirmished too, but the doves had wings and were not suspectible to rabies, they kept the crazed mammals away from their master Opusmagnum.

"I knew you did it!!"

"Actually no. Let go, there is enough monsters for both of us!!"

At the point the street cracked open again, Clockwork and his sentries had already killed all the zombies, when the soldier and the doctor were still locked in their duel, and started sweeping them in the hole, whistling.

"Look what you did, maggot!!" RWB bellowed "I didn't get to crack any skulls!!"

Opusmagnum shoved him aside and approached Clockwork, having a Sentry take aim at him. He kicked it in the head, and could see Clockwork, whose back was turned, flinching with pain and whipping around, to glare at Opusmagnum through his goggles. His connection appeared to be not only on mental, but on a physical level, he could feel their pain too. The doctor made a mental note to look into that later. His scientific curiosity compelled him to take a look at the rift first, that was something he didn't have an access to everyday.

RWB, either not able to feel pain or a very good actor, sauntered over and tried to push him down there and he tried to respond in kind, but Clockwork separated them, asking for theories because portals that rained down the walking dead weren't excatly in his area of expertise, and Merasmus had ran away.

One of the Sentries intercepted a police radio message about strange creatures pouring from a portal in the subways, and Opusmagnum bolted there right away, esthatic to get living test subjects.

"Wait, Opus--!!! The low profile---!!!" Clockwork started, but the mad doctor was already far gone. RWB crawled up from the hole and declared to no one in particular that he was going to save 'Murica, belched out a bike, and sped off into a slightly different direction with his rabid raccoons in tow, leaving Clockwork to stand alone in the devastated but empty-sans-the-dead-zombies street corner.

Needless to say, the nemesises weren't happy to cross paths again.


End file.
